


The Princess and a Weapon

by Knight_Adaar



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, My First AO3 Post, Slow Build, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knight_Adaar/pseuds/Knight_Adaar
Summary: Meet a  Qunari mercenary, a band of Chantry Heretical's, an elven apostate, and a dwarf that can't shut up. Mix in a world-shaking calamity, and you might just be able to save the world. What could ever go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will likely be sporadic, but I hope to work into some kind of rhythm. Feel free to comment and tell me what you think, and ways you think my writing could be better

Awakening in a dark cell with his hand sending burning waves up his arm was the first thing he noticed. The green glow coming from between his fingers was the second. Thirdly, and possibly most pressing at the moment, was the human guards surrounding him with drawn swords. With in the span of two breathes the door before him was thrown open, and a women came charging into the stone dungeon with all the fury of a storm.

As she barreled into the room, Falaras couldn’t help but see the beauty in this woman. Though he hadn’t visited the nation before, she clearly held from the land of Nevarra. She circled him, barking questions at him. Falaras remained silent, unsure of anything she was saying. His crew had been sent to the Frostback mountains to provide a neutral third party guard to the leaders gathering at the Conclave. There had been hundreds of men and women at the Temple. Surely he wasn’t the only survivor of what ever calamity this women before him proclaimed as truth. Looking up into her steel gray eyes, finally speaking, “I don’t remember any of this.” 

With a growl, she pulled the Tal-Vosath to his feet and up flights of stairs until day light blinded him. He must have spent days in the cell’s underground. Shading his eyes with his bound hands. After a few seconds the Breech became clear to his eyes. It twisted and pulsed while hanging in the sky. Clouds circled around it, flashing with lightning. What she had been saying was truth then. Falaras feel to his knees, his hands balled tight as he chokes back a sob for his fallen comrades. Finally, he opened his eyes to the Seeker, “What would you have me do?”

“Help us seal the Breech.” Cassandra pleaded, “I am told your Mark is linked to it. It might be the only way to end this madness.” Giving her a curt nod, the mercenary drew himself to his full height, towering over the humans milling about the small village the pair where standing in the middle of. While marching out of the gates, Cassandra spoke with out looking at the oxman, “They think you killed the Divine.” Falaras could only nod, understanding that the faithful needed some one to blame for this madness.

No more then a few paces out side of the village gates and Falaras felt every nerve in his hand burn with out flame. The pain forced him to his knees. It was not till the Breech slowed its churning again that the pain abated. “Ever time the Breech expands, your Mark reacts. The healers say it is killing you. If you wish to prove your innocence, we must hurry to the Rift.” Falaras slowly rose to his feet again. He would not let history remember his legacy to the world as one of chaos and evil. While the pair was crossing a stone bridge over the frozen river, an emerald bolt feel from the sky and sent them falling onto the ice. Shaking his head, Falaras heard the shrieks of shades just ahead of the rubble around himself. Two where upon the Seeker, who was holding her own against the monstrous duo. A third was bearing down on the Qunari.

With no time to spare, he grabbed the nearest weapon, a modest hand axe. Bringing the blade up to meet the demons claws as it slashed through the air. The honed blade easily cleaved through the creatures arms. Falaras free hand thrust into the shade’s chest, the demon faded into nothingness as crackling fire spread from his hand. It was only with the shade gone that he saw Cassandra approaching with her sword drawn. “Drop your weapon!” she ordered him.

Casting the axe away, Falaras held up his empty hands in a sign of peace. “You know the power of mages. I have no need of a weapon to do you harm.” 

Cassandra groans, slowly sheathing her blade. “You are right. And there is no guarantee that I can protect you. Keep it.” Turning from him and continuing onward. Falaras retrieved the weapon while following her. They faced two more packs of wisps and shades before they reached a small ruin where solders fought against demons under a glowing green twist in the air above them.

Falaras could feel the Fade being pulled into the physical world here. And as soon as the last demon had been slayed, an Elven mage grabbed his wrist, thrusting it into the air at the twisting tear in the Veil. The Mark acted on its own, soothing the damage done to the Veil here. He gasped as the beam between his hand and the Rift blinked out of existence. What ever the Mark had down, it had drained Falaras in a way no battle or single spell had done before. He felt as if it had drawn the power from his soul, and not his body. 

The elf released his hand after it was done. “I am glad to see my suspicions where correct” The mage was dressed humbly. The most remarkable thing about him was the giant black claw he wore on a string. Falaras wasn’t sure what kind of beast it could have come from, what ever it was must have been quite large to have such a claw though. 

“So you know something about the origin of this Mark?” Falaras was desperate to understand just what had been done to his body. After seeing it manipulate the fabric of the Veil so completely, he feared that his own mind was at risk to its influence as well.

The elven mage shook his head in response, “Sadly, I know very little about its true origin. In all my journey’s through the Fade, I have never encountered such an enchantment before.” The man seemed sadden to admit that he had no knowledge of it. 

Cassandra stepped towards the two mages, slinging her shield over her shoulder. “Solas kept your Mark from killing you. And like you, he is an apostate.”

“Seeker, you should know that while your prisoner is indeed a mage, I find it difficult to believe that any mage should a power such as this. It is not of this world.” 

“Well, shit. Things around here just keep getting stranger and stranger.” Varric was standing back from the trio, looking at them all with a quizzical eye while cradling the most complex crossbow Falara’s had ever seen . “Has any one ever stopped and thought about just how truly weird all this is yet.” 

Cassandra directed a disgruntled growl at him, “I have told you that you are free to go Varric. You need not stay any longer.”

“And miss all this weird Princess? I think not,” Varric gave a small chuckle as he stepped next to the Qunari. “Somebody needs to write all of this down. Otherwise no one might believe that the famed Seeker actually worked with a pair of Apostate mages, who aren’t even human I might add, to end the worst magical disaster since the explosion of Kirkwall.” Rubbing his stubbled chin with a growing grin. “Oh yes, I’m going to make a killing off this one. The story of Haven: Weird Shit Abound.” Varric looked at Falaras like he was a meal ticket.

“Well then,” The Qunari looked over the other three, and at the soft glow of the Mark. “I guess we better start saving the world.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy. Open comments on anything you would like.

The dummy never stood a chance. Falaras’ new axe sunk into its chest, sizzling with power. Harritt worked with one of the Tranquil in Haven. The haft had a lyrium core like a mages staff, and a fine head. The steel head was engraved in a Dalish fashion. It was a beautiful weapon all in all. It suited the magic taught to him by Saarebas, and allowed him a weapon befitting his mercenary experience. Currently the Herald was trying to work up a good sweat, ironic since his frustrations formed on the Storm Coast which was covered in constant storms.

Dealing with the Blades of Hessarian had been necessary. They had attacked the scouts sent there with out mercy. Finding out that they could be recruited by defeating their leader in single combat had been a blessing. All in all a stroke of good fortune for the Inquisition. It had been the second mercenary company that had put him such a foul mood. The Chargers and their commander the Iron Bull. A damned Qunari Ben-hassrath.

Falaras had told the warrior in quite colorful phrases that he could be damned. Despite this though, all of the Council members had the gal to try and persuade him to work with the man. Leliana had been extremely insistent that the reports he could offer would be of great use to her spies. Despite this, it was Cassandra’s constant remarks about the subject that drove Falaras to tearing the training dummies apart.

The Herald couldn’t put his fingers on why it was the Seeker that seemed to rile him the most. None of them understood the Qun. His parent’s had told him everything they dared about their old lives. And made sure the young Qunari knew to fight to his last breathe against ever joining the sick country. Seeing the mage with the Valo-Kas had made the message crystal clear to him. He would never willingly join the Qun, or work with one of their spies.

Ripping the axe blade from the dummy sent bits of straw across the ground in front of it. The leather sack sagged from the missing chunk meant it was worthless now. Some one would repair it eventually. Turning from it brought Falaras almost barreling into Seeker Pentaghast. Looking down at the woman, he growled a single word, “What?”

Giving her signature grunt, she walked around the Qunari, kicking at the lumps of straw on the ground before the dummy. “I see you have slayed your foe.” Turning back to face him, and a hand on the pommel of her sword, “Perhaps you need a stronger foe?” She was leaning against the remains of the dummy and giving a blank stare at the Qunari. 

“Why would I want to fight you Cassandra?” He moved to start on the next dummy in the line. The Seeker stepped between him and the dummy though, keeping her stare on him. “I came out here in the middle of the night to be alone. I thought Seekers where suppose to be able to find anything out. It should have been obvious to you.”

With a huff, Cassandra drew herself up to her full height. “You are acting like a child. That is what my powers of observation tell me.” Drawing her sword out, and holding it up against his leather doublet. “They also tell me that what ever anger you are feeling will not be solved with a dummy.” With out warning, she swung it in an obvious side swipe at his left arm. Falaras flicked his axe up in the way, meeting the blade with the haft of his axe. 

“Don’t start something you cant finish Cassandra!” He tossed the sword away with a push. It seemed there was only one way to get this damned woman off his back. There was a full moon, keeping the training ground lit with silvery light. Cassandra was in her usual garb, including her normal breastplate. Falaras was in nothing but leathers on the brisk night. He would be damned if he would let that stop him though. 

Picking up a training shield, the stood en guard with each other. Cassandra made the first move again. Moving with the grace of years of combat experience. Her thrust was powerful, and easy to swipe aside. It was a faulty move on his part, as she brought her shield up and bashed it against his free arm sending him reeling back several feet to keep his balance. “Damn it woman what do you want!” Falaras shouted at the warrior. 

“For you to stop being as stubborn as a druffolo!” She swung her sword in a series of rapid strikes against him. In his current state, it was Falaras could do to keep them from landing. “No one is telling you to trust this Iron Bull. But we can not ignore the wealth of knowledge his reports would bring us.” It was another shield bash that put the mage on his ass. “If we wish to succeed, we have to take advantage of every resource we can find.”

Falaras laid on his back, staring at the stars in silence. Eventually Cassandra stormed away in an equal measure of silence. Looking at the stars brought him some clarity. He knew why he was so bothered by Cassandra’s opinion on working with the Iron Bull. 

First thing after his morning meal, the Herald sought out the Spymaster. “Send word to the Chargers. We accept his aid. But you will read everything he sends. He sends nothing you don’t approve. If anything would ever endanger the Inquisition, kill him.” 

“As you wish Herald.” Came the soft reply. Thought Falaras would have guessed that she had said it with a smile.


	3. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. My computer died and it took me a while to get another. I plan on writing one chapter a month at a minimum.

Falaras sat alone at the war table. The singular room in the back of the Chantry was one of the few places he found solace in Haven anymore. Besides himself, only the council ever entered here. The events of that…altered time and place weighed heavily on him. To know that he was the figurehead of an organization that would alter the face of Thedas forever. It was simply too much. No one person should have that power. 

Person. Was he really though? Between being a mage and the growing power of the Mark, was he truly like any other person? His thoughts had the power to change the world around him. And now he had the power to change the Veil. The barrier between the physical realm and the source of all magic. The only other creature in the world like him was an ancient Tevinter monster cursed with the Blight. It might have once been a man, but no longer. The same power that had twisted and deformed Corypheus now laid inside of himself. How long until he had been changed irrevocably. Until his soul died.  
Falaras took another long drink, wishing there was something stronger inside of Haven. ‘At least I finally found something to miss in my old life.’

A heavy creek come from the oak door behind Falaras. The heavy footsteps coming into the room meant it could only be Cassandra or Cullen. Given that there wasn’t the smell of sweat coming with it, Falaras was certain it was the Seeker instead of the former Templar. “The mage contingent is due to arrive tomorrow. Do you plan on attending?” 

Rolling his shoulders, the Herald stood up and turned around to face Cassandra. She held a noticeable look of disdain on her face. Falaras tossed the bottle in his hand away, the wooden cup clattering over the floor into the corner. “I don’t see why I need to.” He couldn’t look away from her eyes. They were warm despite the heavy glare she was directing upwards at him. All he could see was a red glow that had yet come to be. 

Cassandra’s face softened for a moment, “I can not dare to think that I understand what you experienced. Everything you and Dorian described sounds as if they were a terror brought on by a demon.” She reaches out and grabbed his arm, trying to anchor him down, “But it has not happened yet. Your vision proves that this Inquisition will become the force of good that this world desperately needs.” She started to pull him out towards the door. “This force is in need of its Herald though.”

Growling, Falaras wretched his arm free from her grip, stumbling backward until his knees buckled against the war table, sprawling on to its surface and scattering its markers about. Groaning, he dug his fingers down over his face. “You don’t understand. Dorian doesn’t even understand.” He left his arms to fall against the wooden slab. “I never asked for this. To be responsible for the lives of every living thing on Thedas.”

“Does a child asked to be born? Does the rain ask to fall?!” Cassandra nearly screamed at him. Before the Vashoth knew it, she was leaning over him, slamming her open palms on either side of his head, “I was not asked if I wanted to be the Hero of Orlais. I did what had to be done because I was the only one that could. And now you must be the Herald. Not because you asked, but because you were chosen by powers we can not understand.”

Sighing and closing his eyes, Falaras barely whispered, “I don’t have your faith. I don’t believe in your Maker. I’m a mage. And a Vashoth. Before the conclave, nearly everyone here would rather never see me again, if at all.” He slowly pulled himself up, taking care not to drag his curved horns against the intricately carved wood or against the Seeker. “Cassandra… what I saw horrifies me. What happened to the world, to you.” Falaras dropped his head into his hands, trying not to shudder. “It wasn’t just a vision. This wasn’t an illusion of the Fade. It was reality”

Circling around the table again, Cassandra drew Falaras hands away from his face. “That only strengthens my resolve. We can not allow such horrors to sweep across this land. You did not ask to be our Herald, nor has any farmer wished that demons would spew from a tear in the sky and destroy their homes and lands. Everyone must deal with things they did not ask for Falaras. That does not mean we can crawl into a dark place and drink until we can not stand.” Turning away from him, the Seeker left the war room, leaving the door open behind her.

He did not know how she kept that light alive against any darkness. It was vibrant and seemed to never falter. She was right yet again. He was letting his personal feelings color his choices. Millions of people would suffer if he fell into his fear. Maybe he hadn’t asked for the Mark, or to be the Herald of Andraste. But neither had he asked to be born a mage or as a Vashoth. Falaras conquered those fears long ago, and he would conquer this one as well.


End file.
